Golden Child
by Zan65
Summary: A change in director has changed the dynamic within the team. Tony tries to fix things between him and McGee, but McGee, Tony and Gibbs are unprepared for what happens next.
1. Chapter 1

GOLDEN CHILD

Chapter One

'Oh come on, McHesistant!' exclaimed Tony as they approached the set of stairs that would take the pair to their destination. 'Trust me, you're gonna love it And just think about how much better you'll feel the next time you've gotta run to catch a perp!'

McGee hurried to keep up with Tony's long strides and tried to resist the strong urge to simply run away. He had, after all, agreed to this excursion – partly to shut Tony up, but also because he had been feeling seriously out of shape. As annoying as Tony could be and often was, the senior agent consistently out-ran him and seemed to relish pursuit on foot. Tony had been harping on how good this particular exercise class was and how incredibly hot the instructor was for weeks. And when McGee had found himself imagining Tony calling him 'McPodgy' if his physical fitness slid further downwards, he'd decided to take Tony up on his offer of letting him go along. Tony, of course, had been delighted. Maybe it was because he was genuinely interested in helping a colleague tone up. Maybe (and more likely, thought McGee) it was because Tony was going to get a kick out of seeing McGee make a fool of himself. Either way, McGee was here with Tony on the morning of a rare day off from work, and he was going to make himself go through with it. There was no way he wanted to hear Tony tell Ziva and Abby that McGee had chickened out.

Tony smiled to himself as he reached the top of the stairs and held the door open for the younger agent. The drive had been smooth, courtesy of McGee's new Saab, obviously bought with the proceeds of stories about Tommy and Lisa. He had been pleased and, if he was totally honest with himself, relieved that McGee had decided to come to the class with him. Since the arrival of Vance, Tony had detected distinctly snarky and superior vibes from McGee. Tony really wanted to re-connect with McGee, preferably away from the office and away from Vance, and what better way than working out and then grabbing lunch and a beer?

'Two for Avril's 'Knockout' class,' said Tony cheerily to the beautiful woman at the service desk who smiled warmly at him. He passed over his card and saw McGee reaching for his wallet.

'My shout, Probie,' Tony told him. 'It's his first time,' he enthusiastically told the woman as she handed him two passes.

'Enjoy,' she told them both, eyes only for Tony.

'This way,' Tony told McGee. The younger agent rolled his eyes at the obvious adoration the woman was sending Tony's way. No wonder he liked this place!

McGee followed Tony to what turned out to be the men's change room.

'Dump your stuff,' Tony told him cheerily as he walked towards another door. 'Gotta use the head. Class starts in ten.'

Tony was in an exceptionally good mood. He knew McGee had felt like bolting, but he was still with him. He'd love the workout. Avril was a tough but fair instructor. Tony had worded her up that he'd be bringing McGee and she'd promised to go easy without making it obvious. Tony hoped that this was going to be a semi-regular thing – something to ease the tension that had developed between the two of them. Of course he was also excited about the likelihood of amusing moments along the way.

After pausing to check that his hair was indeed still perfect, Tony made his way back to McGee. The moment he'd walked through the doorway, however, his keen senses immediately told him that something was wrong. He could hear McGee speaking to someone in the same strained tones he used when Gibbs was demanding answers he didn't have. Tony silently sidled along the bank of lockers and ducked behind a storage cabinet near to where McGee sat.

'You know what I want,' a stranger's muffled voice said.

'I told you I don't,' said McGee. Tony could hear barely suppressed panic. Daring to peer out from his hiding spot, Tony was able to clearly see the cause of McGee's anxiety. A gun was being pointed straight at McGee's head by a man wearing a balaclava.

'The keys,' hissed the stranger. 'To the Saab.'

Before McGee had time to react, to pull his car keys out of his bag, to say anything, to do ANYTHING, Tony flew out of nowhere and grabbed hold of the hand that held the gun trained on the younger agent.

From McGee's perspective, what occurred next seemed to occur in slow motion. The man's gun fell to the floor and was immediately kicked away by Tony. Incensed, the assailant tightened his grip on Tony's hand, causing the senior agent to flail like a fish on the end of a line. When McGee finally regained his senses enough to stand up, the man released his grip on Tony and rushed to the exit, leaving the two agents alone. Tony was curled up on the floor holding his right wrist with his left. His hand looked unnatural. His fingers stuck out at odd angles. His face was a nasty shade of white.

McGee rummaged for his cell and quickly called 911. He gave the address and his name in a shaky voice before hanging up and making the call he was far more nervous about.

When Gibbs arrived at 'Personal Best' Fitness Studio, he was royally pissed off. He had been spending the team's first day off in weeks spending quality time in his basement with his boat and his bourbon. He did not want or need a garbled phone call from McGee telling him that he and Dinozzo had been attacked. Still wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt, Gibbs impatiently flashed his badge to gain access to the establishment and was directed towards the change rooms. He stood in the doorway for a few moments to take in the scene.

Three paramedics were attending to Dinozzo in the middle of the floor. His senior agent did not appear to be doing a lot of talking, which was not a good sign. He was also allowing himself to be treated –another bad sign. A local LEO was still getting details from McGee who kept looking anxiously over towards Dinozzo.

Gibbs strode in and peered over a paramedic's shoulder, gaining Tony's attention.

'I'm fine, Boss,' Tony said, a comment that Gibbs chose to ignore, particularly in light of the elaborate dressing that was being placed around his hand.

'What's the story with him?' Gibbs asked the nearest paramedic, showing his badge once again. 'These two are both on my team.'

'At least three broken fingers,' he was told. 'Maybe some ligament damage. Hard to tell here. We need to get him to X-ray, but they'll have to set the whole hand.'

Gibbs took a closer look at Tony's hand and then at his agent's pinched, pale face and felt anger rise within him.

'What the hell happened?' he demanded. 'Not you, Dinozzo,' he snapped as he saw Tony open his mouth to speak. 'McGee. Spill!'

'We – uh – we came do a workout class,' began McGee, 'but, but of course you don't care about that,' he added as he saw Gibbs face darken even further. 'I was waiting here for Tony while he used the bathroom and a man in a balaclava pointed a gun at me and said he wanted the keys to my car.'

'Why the hell didn't you give him the damn keys?' demanded Gibbs.

'I was going to,' protested McGee, 'but Tony suddenly leapt out of nowhere and grabbed him. He made the situation worse.'

'He had a gun pointed at your head,' said Tony, his voice weakened, probably by the pain he was in as his hand was dealt with.

'You should have just stayed out of it!' said McGee, his voice rising.

'McGee!' spat Gibbs. 'Dinozzo's got a pretty serious injury trying to stop you getting your head blown off. You should have been quicker producing the keys.'

'It's not his fault, Boss,' Tony said.

'Butt out, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs.

'Butting out,' Tony acknowledged quietly as he was assisted onto a stretcher.

'I swear, Dinozzo' continued Gibbs, turning his attention away from McGee for a moment. 'Don't you get enough serious injuries at work that you have to look for new ways to get yourself nearly killed?'

'It's not Tony's fault,' said McGee, suddenly feeling horribly guilty about what looked like a nasty injury.

'McGee!' barked Gibbs, angrily.

'Shutting up, Boss,' muttered McGee.

'We're ready to transport to Bethesda' one of the paramedics told Gibbs. Gibbs moved closer to the stretcher and waited until Tony's eyes were fixed on his.

'I'll tell Ducky to meet you there,' he told Tony, his voice low and reassuring. 'I'll be there as soon as the scene is processed properly. We'll get the bastard that did this.'

'Don't be too tough on McGee,' Tony said, his voice hushed.

'Don't give the doctors any bullshit,' was Gibbs' only reply. He touched Tony lightly under the chin before turning his attention back to McGee and the local cop.

'Okay, what've we got?'


	2. Chapter 2

Golden Child

_Thanks for all the lovely feedback!_

Chapter 2

Tony tried not to think about his hand as he was transported to hospital. His head was still spinning at the sudden change in direction the day had taken. He kept re-playing the moment he came across the guy with the gun trained on McGee. His gut had told him that McGee was in trouble, but maybe he'd acted too hastily. Maybe he should have just waited until McGee had handed over the keys. If the guy had simply taken the keys and the car, the worst thing he'd be dealing with would be a grumpy McGee, and Gibbs would still be enjoying his day off. Tony also remembered that he was due in court to represent NCIS regarding a couple of prosecutions the following day. He'd have to kiss _**that**_ gig goodbye. Gibbs was going to be extra pissed. And Vance? Well, this was just about going to be the final nail in Tony's coffin as far as the director's opinion of him went. Tony gave an involuntary groan as the full list of implications of his injury began to sink in.

'Your hand is going to be fine, Sir,' the paramedic who was riding with him assured him, obviously assuming the groan was the result of physical discomfort. Tony nodded his appreciation of the support, but inwardly cringed. His _**hand **_might end up being fine but his _**ass**_ was cooked. And there was nothing the finest doctor in the land could do about _**that**_.

……………………………………………….

Gibbs tossed the evidence bag onto the passenger seat, slammed the car door and began the drive to NCIS. Once in traffic, he pressed speed dial.

'Jethro! Enjoying your day off?' came Ducky's surprised and jovial voice.

'I need you to get to Bethesda,' Gibbs told him.

'_**You're**_ not sick, are you?' asked Ducky, his tone instantly worried. If Gibbs was taking himself to hospital, he must surely be at death's door!

'It's Dinozzo,' said Gibbs. 'Busted some fingers.'

'I'm on my way,' said Ducky.

Gibbs terminated the call and pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator. He dearly wanted to head straight to the hospital himself, but he hadn't pulled rank to gain custody of the evidence to have it go unprocessed for what could be several hours while he waited for Tony to be patched up. Besides, Ducky would make sure some green, trainee med student didn't gloss over details where Tony's health was concerned.

Once the assailant's gun had been located under the lockers where Tony had kicked it, Gibbs had asserted himself by reminding the cops who had attended the scene that the perp had committed attempted robbery against and assaulted a federal NCIS agent. The gun had been signed over to him, and Gibbs had whisked McGee out of there before they could change their minds. Outside, Gibbs had told McGee to go home. The younger agent had tried to argue the point but Gibbs had cut him off with a direct order.

Once he reached NCIS, Gibbs sped straight into the lab. Abby turned around the second her 'music' was terminated and clapped her hands with glee.

'Gibbs!' she exclaimed. 'A social visit on your day off!'

'Sorry Abs,' said Gibbs, breaking one of his own rules. He passed her the evidence bag which she eagerly opened.

'I need it dusted for prints and I want to know everything you can find out about it and the person who used it last,' Gibbs told her.

Abby looked from the gun to Gibbs, back to the gun and back to Gibbs again. There was something more than hinky about Gibbs coming into the lab in his civvys and handing her a gun in a non-NCIS standard issue evidence bag, but his expression told her that he had no time to tell her the details right at that point. He needed her to do her job and keep her questions for later.

'On it,' Abby told him, saluting him for good measure. 'Just tell me that everything's okay.'

Gibbs leaned towards her and planted a light kiss on Abby's forehead.

'Everything's okay,' he told her before turning to rush out.

'Mmmm,' mused Abby as she began inspecting the gun. 'Let's see if _**you**_ can tell me what Gibbs isn't telling me.'

………………………………….

X-rays done and a rather painful manual inspection of his hand over with, Tony sat back and tried to relax while the plaster was applied. Of great help, he had to admit, was Ducky. The old M.E. had appeared, as if by magic, not long after Tony had arrived at the hospital. Tony had no doubts that the conjurer had been Gibbs. He was quite touched that Gibbs had summoned Ducky, but he also realized that Gibbs trusted Ducky to be his eyes and ears – a kindly informant who would promptly report any downplaying of injury. Ducky had waltzed in, introduced himself to the attending doctor, set Tony at ease, inspected the injury, accompanied him to X-ray, approved the diagnosis and proposed treatment, and was now carefully observing the plastering – all without prodding Tony about how he happened to have his hand mangled by another man. He was currently describing the origins of plaster of paris, which Tony was finding to be a welcome distraction. He could have done with Ducky's presence some twenty years ago when he'd broken his leg, and ten years before than when he'd had broken bones attended to. The pain killers they'd made him take a little while before were starting to take effect. He began to superimpose Ducky over memories of past visits to the hospital. The result made him smile as Ducky moved onto a story about one of his mother's corgi's who had all four legs plastered.

……………………………………

As Gibbs arrived at hospital reception, eager to see Tony, he encountered McGee.

'What part of _go home_ didn't you understand?' asked Gibbs, his voice hard.

'I wanted to see how Tony is,' said McGee. 'I couldn't just go home without knowing how bad it is.'

Gibbs pondered McGee's staunch reply for a moment. If he had been in McGee's position, mused Gibbs, he would want to see Tony, except that Gibbs couldn't imagine himself ever just sitting there watching and not acting while someone mangled Tony's hand.

Saying nothing to McGee, Gibbs extracted directions from the receptionist and stalked off to find his injured agent with McGee hot on his heels.

Ducky looked up to see Gibbs and McGee enter the room just as the plastering of Tony's hand was completed. Gibbs noted immediately that Dinozzo still looked pale, but not as deathly white as he had when he last saw him. Someone had draped a blanket across his shoulders, and Ducky kept one hand lightly on Tony's back.

'I believe you have some visitors,' Ducky told Tony. Tony looked straight at the pair and his face slowly broke into a wide, lazy grin.

'It's like a party in here,' he announced.

'What's the story?' asked Gibbs, ignoring Tony for the moment. For Gibbs, there was great irony in that Tony had frequent need for painkillers yet was so peculiarly affected by them.

'Anthony is very, very lucky,' Ducky told him. 'He has three broken fingers, but no ligament damage. There was no need for surgery. He'll need to keep the plaster on for six weeks, and he'll have no use of his hand for that time, but there's unlikely to be any residual damage or loss of function once the plaster is off.'

While Gibbs simultaneously fumed at the fact that one of his agents was temporarily incapacitated and felt relief that Tony had not been permanently disabled, McGee shook his head. Lucky? Ducky clearly knew a different definition of that word!

'Hey Boss,' said Tony, holding up his plastered hand which looked more like a solid, white mitten than a hand. 'This is like the bad guy in one of the Bond films. He had a lump of gold instead of a hand. Made him pretty lethal – and clumsy! Glad it's you that does the head slapping around the office. If it was me, I'd be giving people concussion!'

Tony giggled a little at the thought, and laughed out aloud when he saw McGee's face.

'Oh, come on, McGlum! Lighten up!' he told him.

'The pain killers will start wearing off in about an hour,' Ducky told Gibbs in a quiet voice. 'I'm afraid he's probably not quite come to terms with the situation as yet.'

'Ya think, Duck?' asked Gibbs, sarcastically.

'You just need to sign the discharge papers and then we can go,' said Ducky.

'Let's go, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs, firmly helping him to his feet.

'Where're we going, Boss?' asked Tony cheerfully.

'We're gonna see a girl about a gun,' Gibbs told him.


	3. Chapter 3

Golden Child

Chapter Three

Ziva had been quite enjoying the quiet of the bullpen. She had decided to catch up on paperwork while the rest of the team took the day off. So she was very surprised when the elevator doors opened and McGee, followed by Gibbs and Tony, emerged. All three were dressed very casually, she observed, and Gibbs had his hand firmly under one of Tony's armpits. McGee went straight to his desk and switched on his P.C. with a little more force than was necessary. Ziva watched Gibbs steer Tony towards his desk and onto his chair.

'See if you can stay out of trouble while I go see Abby,' Gibbs told Tony, his tone quite harsh. Tony saluted Gibbs before sending Ziva a cheery wave. Her eyebrows shot upwards at the sight of his plastered hand. Gibbs shook his head and left. Ziva put down her pen, stood up and moved over to McGee's desk.

'Why are you here on your day off?' she asked. 'And what has happened to Tony?'

'Why don't you ask him?' muttered McGee without turning away from his emails. Ziva looked over at Tony who was grinning happily – too happily. She had seen that expression once before – when he had been given painkillers for a broken nose.

'Tony,' she ventured. 'What happened to your hand?'

'We went to the gym,' Tony told her. 'McGee and I went to do Avril's class. Avril's amazing.'

'And you broke your hand in the class doing some kind of exercise,' said Ziva. 'That is very careless of her and of you.'

'No, no!' laughed Tony. 'We never got to the class. Some guy pulled a gun on McGoogle. I grabbed the gun and he squished my hand.'

'Why did he direct his weapon at McGoog- I mean McGee?' asked Ziva, her curiosity piqued.

'Wanted his car keys,' whispered Tony, as though it was a secret. 'It's a really, really nice car.'

'Why did you grab the gun?' asked Ziva. 'Why did you not just let McGee give him the keys if that is what the thief wanted? It is just a car.'

'I don't know,' admitted Tony, wrinkling his brow. 'I think I had a feeling, but I'm not really sure 'cause I wasn't really thinking.'

'Yeah, _**you**_ said it Tony!' snapped McGee from his desk. 'You _**never**_ think! You just jump in and think about it when it's too late.'

Ziva was surprised by McGee's outburst, particularly given the serious nature of Tony's injury, but she chose not to comment. If Tony was going to say anything in reply, he had no opportunity because Gibbs returned at that moment with Abby close behind him. The lab queen's eyes grew wide when she caught sight of Tony's hand.

'Gibbs!' she exclaimed. 'You didn't say it was this bad, unless _McGee and Dinozzo tangled with some guy_ is some kind of euphemism for _some bad-ass broke Tony's hand_! Next time, and there better not be a next time, you'd better give me the full story.'

It was peculiar, mused Ziva, that only Abby could get away with scolding Gibbs. Abby rushed over to where Tony was sitting and enveloped him in an intense hug. Uncharacteristically, Tony snuggled against her and shut his eyes.

'You smell beautiful, Ab's,' he sighed contentedly.

'Painkillers?' asked Abby.

'Oh, yeah,' said Gibbs.

McGee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. It was painfully obvious to him that _**he**_ hadn't been given a hug, and _**he'd**_ been the one who had the gun pulled on him after all. If Tony had just kept the hell out of it, he wouldn't be nursing a broken hand and Abby would be helping McGee track down his stolen car.

'Stop cuddling and start telling us what you found on the gun!' Gibbs snapped, his patience wearing thinner. Abby gave a blissed-out Tony one more squeeze and began her report.

'Well, it was really hard to get any prints,' she began, 'because unlike in the movies when prints are regularly retrieved from weapons and the perp is caught, it is actually _**really**_ hard to get clear prints from gun, largely because of the metal surface and..'

'Abby!' shouted Gibbs. Some days he was sure Abby must be related to Ducky. She seemed to digress more and more by the day, particularly in front of an audience.

'I managed to get a print,' said Abby, narrowing her eyes at him. 'and I got a match on the system. The print belongs to a man called Marcus Reed. He's wanted for murder and theft in three states.'

She paused for effect. Ziva noted the colour drain from McGee's face. Even Gibbs' mouth appeared to drop open slightly at the revelation. Tony seemed to be putting a lot of effort into listening to what Abby was saying.

'It gets worse – kind of,' said Abby. 'Reed's MO is to demand keys to luxury cars from the owners then shoot them through the forehead. The cars he sells for cash to shonky operators. The killings he seems to do for the thrill. He kills whether the victim gives up the keys or puts up a fight. Timmy, if Tony hadn't jumped in, you'd be dead. Tony saved your life!'

Silence descended over the group. Gibbs' whole attitude towards his number one agent softened in an instant. McGee suddenly felt physically sick at the thought that he had narrowly missed being slain, all because of his Saab. Ziva's hackles rose at the thought of this vicious killer being on the loose. She looked forward to capturing him, perhaps 'accidentally' breaking a few of _**his**_ fingers during his apprehension.

The ringing of Tony's desk phone broke the silence. Without thinking, Tony tried to pick it up with his injured hand, smashing it and knocking it off the desk in the process.

'Sorry Boss,' he mumbled, clearly coming down from the happy pills.

'Rest day is cancelled officially,' Gibbs announced. 'We need to catch this bastard. McGee, Ziva, find out all you can about Reed. I want known haunts, addresses, relatives, contacts, criminal history – everything. I want him nailed. Abby, take Dinozzo down to the lab for the afternoon while you work and then take him home. Make sure he takes it easy, stays out of trouble and doesn't smash anything else.'

Abby clapped her hands delightedly and held out her hand for Tony to grab. As Tony carefully stood up, Gibbs moved to stand in front of him. Placing his hand on Tony's shoulder he looked his agent square in the eye.

'I don't always like your methods,' he told him, 'but you did good, Tony.'

Tony saw the sincerity in Gibbs' face, as well as the concern, and felt warmed by it. Praise was rare from Gibbs – even rarer when Tony felt he'd totally screwed the situation up by leaving the team one short.

'Thanks Boss,' he said before letting Abby lead him away.


	4. Chapter 4

**GOLDEN CHILD**

_Thanks for all the lovely reviews and PM's! You guys are fantastic! Thanks for the encouragement. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 4**

Abby talked a lot. In fact, she talked even more when she was stressed out or extremely happy. It turned out that she was both stressed _and_ extremely happy as she drove Tony to his apartment. She was anxious about the near-miss that he and McGee had had, but rapt that Gibbs had entrusted Tony to her care. She spoke incessantly as she drove. The only peace and quiet Tony got was when Abby ran in to her own apartment to grab some 'supplies'. Not that Tony minded. Abby's chatter was infinitely preferable to Gibbs' driving. The pain killers were now only having a residual effect, so he wasn't finding things quite so amusing, so Abby's description of the previous night's bowling tournament was a great distraction.

Plus, Abby was _really_ good at looking after him without making him feel totally useless. Once they reached his apartment, she let him make his own way inside. She didn't keep giving him sideways glances to see if he was okay. She didn't talk to him like he was six years old.

At dinner, however, she fussed over him a bit, but he was grateful, because by then it was sinking in that accomplishing ordinary tasks with one hand totally plastered was going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible. The meal was a simple pasta dish, but even bringing the fork in his left hand to his mouth required concentration and effort. Eventually Abby reached over and cut the spaghetti up and passed him a spoon, all without interrupting her story about how she had resorted to giving the mass spectrometer a talking-to that morning. God he loved Abby!

Stomachs full, they finally leaned back in their chairs and there was suddenly a moment of silence. Abby looked at him pointedly and indicated his hand.

'Okay, mister,' she said. 'Tell me what you're thinking about _**that**_.'

Tony smiled and held his injured hand out over the table.

'Oh, I'm thinking I could offer to smash open the walnuts Ziva likes to bring into work,' he said. 'It'll also probably work far better than any of my usual lines with the women at the bar.'

'Cut the crap,' said Abby, crossing her arms over her chest, her words causing Tony to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

'Hey, I didn't know you could channel Gibbs,' he told her. 'Do it again.'

'I'm serious, Tony,' said Abby. 'You don't fool me with the comedy routine. Talk to me.'

Tony put his hand back down on the table and sighed.

'Vance already has it in for me,' he told her. 'This is just gonna make things worse. I know Gibbs said I did good, but Vance isn't gonna see it that way. He'll just decide that I'm even more useless than usual.'

'Don't worry about the director,' Abby told him. 'When you were on the Reagan, he had a really good opportunity to get you permanently assigned there, but Gibbs stood right up to him. He kept at him until he could bring you back. And face it, if Vance didn't think you were a top agent, he'd have sent you away again. Even if you had_** two**_ broken hands, a broken leg **and **a gunshot wound, you'd still be a better agent than a lot of guys he has on the other teams.'

Tony didn't agree with it, but he had to smile at Abby's fierce appraisal of him. If Abby ever went head to head with Vance over anything, Tony's money would be on her.

'Just do what Ducky and the doctor says,' said Abby, 'and you'll be good as new. Now, DVD time! Your choice, totally.'

By the time the credits for the Maltese Falcon were rolling, Tony could no longer stifle a series of massive yawns.

'Bed for you,' said Abby as he flicked off the plasma.

'Oh, you're getting no argument from me,' said Tony, standing up and stretching. After a quick visit to the toilet, he emerged to find toothpaste on his brush and pills and a glass by the sink. Smiling he cleaned his teeth and took one of the pills. As much as he hated taking them, his hand was starting to throb and he really didn't want to be tossing and turning all night. Thankfully he was still in the gym clothes he had put on that morning, so there was no real need to change. He didn't have the energy to do so anyway. Once he had settled himself gratefully into his bed, Abby re-appeared in her skull and crossbones pyjamas. She climbed up onto the bed and perched on top of the covers.

'Comfy?' she asked him.

'Mmm,' he murmured. 'Great pasta, drugs and a beautiful girl in my bedroom. What more could a guy want?'

Abby reached over and ran her hand gently over the side of his face. It was not lost on her that he had nearly died early that day.

Tony closed his eyes and Abby thought he had fallen asleep when suddenly his eyes flew open again.

'Maybe I should call McGee,' he told Abby, concern evident in his eyes. 'He'd be pretty freaked out, and that Reed maniac is still out there.'

'Gibbs put a watch on his apartment,' Abby told him, soothingly. 'Don't worry about McGee. He's probably on line in the middle of some epic game right now.'

The combined effect of Abby's words, fatigue and the drugs caused Tony to relax, and within seconds he was drifting off to sleep.

'Thanks…. For looking after me,' he murmured softly as sleep claimed him.

Abby answered by softly kissing him on the forehead and pulling the blankets up higher, before turning off the lamp and heading off to the guest room.

…………………………………………………………

The sound of his front door opening then closing brought Tony out of a deep sleep. Turning his head, he noted the time on his bedside clock was 8.00am. He assumed Abby had left, something he realized he had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, her not being there meant that he didn't have to pretend to be more upbeat than he felt. On the other hand, he was going to miss the TLC she had delivered the evening before. Sighing, he tested his right arm by moving it slightly. The pain had reduced to a dull ache, which meant that he was unlikely to have to suffer the painkillers that day. It was small mercy, but Tony would take it. In fact, there was no reason why he couldn't spend the rest of the day in bed or downstairs on the couch watching movies. Despite what Abby would have him believe, he wasn't much use as an NCIS agent in his current condition.

Suddenly, as if in response to his plans, Tony's keen ears heard the gentle thud of feet along his hallway. Perhaps Abby had not left after all. Next, the bedroom door was opened to reveal someone who was definitely not Abby.

'Boss?' said Tony, propping himself up on his left elbow, not quite believing his eyes. 'What are you doing here?'

Gibbs, satisfied that Tony was awake and as lucid as he ever expected him to be, strode across the bedroom and briskly opened the curtains. Turning back to the bed, Gibbs noticed that Tony was a much healthier color than he had been the previous day. Encouraged, he drew an item from his pocket that looked like an elongated shower-cap. Tony looked quizzically at his boss.

'It's to cover your hand while you shower,' Gibbs explained. 'Courtesy of Ducky.'

'What's the rush?' asked Tony. He certainly had no immediate plans beyond taking up residence in front of the plasma.

'You're due in court,' said Gibbs. 'Three cases, remember? You're the NCIS rep for the day.'

'Yeah, but isn't someone _else_ going?' asked Tony. 'I'm kind of out of action here,' he added, raising his hand above the blankets.

'You can still speak,' said Gibbs, gruffly. 'Don't need your hands to talk.' Tony was on the verge of telling Gibbs that cutting off an Italian's hands was like cutting out his tongue, but he thought better of it.

'Feel okay?' Gibbs asked next, throwing Tony with the sudden change of topic. Tony knew that Gibbs had faith in him to get the job done in court. He knew that Gibbs had gone out of his way to come to his place to make sure he didn't spend the day wallowing in self pity. The 'incident' the day before had left Gibbs' team one man short. Tony didn't want to let the man down any further.

'Yeah, I'm good,' Tony said, throwing back the blankets. Standing up a bit too quickly, Tony felt Gibbs steadying hand grip his elbow as he started to sway.

'You okay to get in the shower?' Gibbs asked.

'Yes!' said Tony, quickly, horrified at the idea of Gibbs helping him with _that_. 'Where's Abby, anyway?'

'At work. Why?' asked Gibbs, his eyes narrowing. Would Tony have accepted help with showering from Abby?

'Nothing,' said Tony as he stalked off to the bathroom, plastic cover in hand. 'Just curious. I'll be out in ten.'

As he made his way back to Tony's kitchen, Gibbs wondered whether he should be worried about Rule 12 being broken by Abby and Tony. The black love-hearts drawn on Tony's plaster cast had not gone unnoticed by him.

Half an hour and two cups of coffee later, Tony made his appearance in the living room in suit pants and an unbuttoned shirt. He carried his shoes, tie and socks in his left hand. The whole 'dressing' business with one hand had proved to be a lot tougher than he had anticipated.

'Put them down,' said Gibbs, indicating the items Tony held. That done, Gibbs began buttoning Tony's shirt without batting an eyelid, as if he had done it for Tony every day of his life. Tony managed to feel uncomfortable and touched at the same time. He wondered what he'd done in life to deserve a boss like Gibbs. His mind turning to the workplace, an unpleasant thought occurred to him.

'What about Vance?' Tony suddenly asked. Gibbs, in such close proximity to his number one, could feel Tony's trepidation as he asked the question.

'What about him?' Gibbs asked as he moved on to Tony's tie.

'He can't be happy about this,' said Tony, holding up his right hand. _He's never happy with me under normal circumstances, _thought Tony.

Gibbs thought back to the conversation he'd had with Vance the evening before. Vance had called Gibbs to his office, demanding to know why the local LEO's were complaining about apprehension of evidence by NCIS at a crime scene. Gibbs had defended his actions and stood firm that attempted robbery and assault of NCIS agents was NCIS business. He had glossed over the finer details, knowing that Vance would jump on any opportunity to condemn Tony's actions. But Tony didn't need to know all that.

'I'll handle Vance,' Gibbs told him as he neatened the knot and straightened the tie. Tony nodded his head, appreciative that Gibbs was looking out for him.

'Sit,' said Gibbs, as he picked up the shoes and socks.

'Boss. McGee,' said Tony as he sat down, trying not to be mortified about Gibbs helping him into socks and shoes.

'What about him?' said Gibbs again.

'Don't be too hard on him,' said Tony, looking down at the top of Gibbs' head.

'He should have handed over the damn keys straight away,' muttered Gibbs.

'And then he'd be dead,' argued Tony, shuddering at the description Abby had given of the killer.

'Most times a thief isn't gonna blow your head off,' said Gibbs. 'McGee shouldn't have hesitated. You hesitate one moment in the field, you're dead, or your partner's dead.'

'Boss, we weren't in the field,' said Tony. 'We were at a gym.'

'You're federal agents, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs, standing up. 'You're ALWAYS on duty.'

Gibbs looked down at Tony for a few moments, waiting for his words to sink in. He knew Tony had always taken a protective stance where McGee was concerned, but the younger agent wasn't green anymore. He had to take responsibility for his own conduct. McGee had made it clear that he wasn't above pointing out _Tony's_ errors of judgment. It was only fair, and necessary, that McGee took responsibility for his own mistakes.

'Come on,' Gibbs finally told his number one agent. 'Judge McNeill hates to be kept waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

GOLDEN CHILD

CHAPTER 5

_Sorry about the delay. Real life and all that. Reviews have been much appreciated. Thank you and on with the story! Zan _

'I do not understand why some men have to be such pigs,' commented Ziva as she and McGee left the bar that Reed supposedly frequented.

'Well, they were pretty drunk,' said McGee, 'and they clearly found you to be very attractive. Until you started threatening them that is. Not that you're not a beautiful looking woman all the time, but..'

'McGee,' said Ziva. 'You are babbling.'

'Sorry,' muttered McGee.

The pair walked in silence back to the car. They had spent a fruitless morning checking out known and suspected haunts of Reed. McGee would have liked nothing better than reporting to Gibbs that they had found and apprehended the killer. Ziva would have liked nothing better than bringing back a body.

As they neared the car, three gorgeous women walked by. McGee watched them until they were nearly out of sight as Ziva observed him, her face showing amusement.

'You have been taking lessons from Tony,' she stated as she opened the car door.

'Nah,' said McGee. 'Tony would have got a phone number from one of them by now. That's how it is with everything. He **does** and I **watch**.'

They both got into the car and McGee held on as Ziva took the car from stationary to the maximum speed limit in an instant.

'You must stop bashing yourself up about what has happened,' Ziva told him. 'It is not your fault that Tony has such a bad injury. **You** were not the one who crushed his hand. You need to focus on getting the man who did.'

'Yeah,' said McGee, glumly looking out the window. 'But at the end of the day, if it had been **you** that Tony had taken to the gym, - or Gibbs- it would've turned out differently. Instead, Tony's out of action and Gibbs keeps sending me the death look.'

Ziva was about to say more but held her tongue. She was pretty certain that if it** had** been her in McGee's place, she would have dealt with Reed without any intervention from Tony. But she was not McGee. And she was not there. All leads exhausted, she headed back to NCIS.

…………………………………..

On the way back to the office, Gibbs was inwardly happy to put up with the chatter coming from the passenger seat. Tony was going on and on about old episodes of Columbo, interspersing his descriptions with imitations of Peter Falk. Gibbs had spent the morning watching Tony in court and wishing that Vance was there to see the senior field agent conduct himself in such a professional manner. Tony had given evidence, charmed the judge and had the jury eating out the palm of his plastered hand. It was the Agent Dinozzo that Vance rarely saw and it pissed Gibbs off no end that Leon always seemed to witness the worst of him. It would have been instructional for McGee to have been watching that morning as well, except that Gibbs hadn't wished _**he**_ was there. Gibbs was still far too annoyed with him.

'And just when everyone had decided the guy was a nutcase,' Tony was saying as Gibbs swung into the NCIS car park, 'Colombo would deliver the verbal killer blow and close the case.'

'How about closing your **mouth** for the last few minutes,' said Gibbs, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. 'I'm already low on caffeine and you're giving me a headache.'

'On it Boss,' Tony said cheerily. He'd had a good morning and didn't feel half as useless as he had when he'd woken up. The cases had gone really well, and he knew his own performance had gone up a notch just because Gibbs was there watching. Call him pathetic, but Tony liked nothing better than Gibbs seeing him do a good job.

…………………………….

McGee and Ziva had been at their desks for only ten minutes when Gibbs and Tony arrived.

'You are in a suit,' commented Ziva, eyeing her partner appreciatively and noticing the spring in his step. 'Is it not a little formal for sick leave?'

'Ah, observant but inaccurate one,' returned Tony as he perched on the edge of his desk. 'I am not sick and I am not on leave. I had court appearances today.'

'David. Report,' demanded Gibbs from his desk. He did not acknowledge McGee.

'We visited places Reed has been seen at over the last week,' Ziva told him. 'If anyone knows anything, they are not saying. He is a very slippery criminal.'

'He's disappeared,' offered McGee, instantly regretting his comment when Gibbs turned on him.

'People don't disappear, Agent McGee!' he snapped. 'I want him and I want him before he kills or maims anyone else.'

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room while Gibbs continued to glare at McGee before stalking off muttering that he'd be with Abby.

Tony suddenly felt the adrenalin from the morning's performance drain away and he suppressed a yawn. Bringing his left hand to his face, he rubbed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, he started when he saw McGee standing right in front of him.

'Whoa,' Tony said. 'I didn't even hear you move, Mc Stealthy. Ziva teach you some of her Ninja skills?'

'I want to fix things,' McGee blurted out before he could change his mind. 'I messed up yesterday.'

'There's nothing to fix, McGee,' Tony told him with a sigh.

'There is,' McGee insisted. 'Tell me what I should have done and I'll do it next time.'

'It's okay,' said Tony, feeling fatigue creeping into his body. Perhaps he'd go take a nap in Abby's lab. Once McGee stopped talking.'

'It's** not** okay,' persisted McGee. 'I screwed up and I don't what to screw up again.'

'We all screw up,' Tony told him. **'I** screw up, **you** screw up, **Ziva** screws up, even **Gibbs** screws up – but I didn't say that, by the way, if Gibbs asks you if I did. Who says that it wasn't me that screwed up **this** time?'

'Gibbs is barely talking to me,' protested McGee, his voice rising. '**He** obviously agrees that it was me that screwed up.'

'He's pissed at both of us,' said Tony, feeling even more fatigued. Either the events of the previous day or McGee or a combination of both was draining him fast. 'Don't worry about Gibbs. He'll get over it.'

'It's alright for **you**! Gibbs is acknowledging **YOUR** presence!' yelled McGee in frustration. Why wouldn't Tony help him fix things?

Ziva saw Tony's demeanor change and she stood up. She had no desire to physically intervene between her co-workers, but she would if it was necessary.

'Oh, so it's okay for me, is it?' bit back Tony, standing up and leaning dangerously into McGee's personal space. 'Vance thinks I'm an imbecile and hates my guts, Gibbs is down one agent because of me, and I can't even put toothpaste on my own damn toothbrush! What's the matter McGee? Is the golden child's crown slipping?'

Abby, sent up by Gibbs to take Tony to lunch, was confronted by a weird kind of Mexican stand-off in the bullpen as she emerged from the elevator. McGee and Tony were standing chest to chest and only centimeters apart. Ziva was also standing and looked ready to draw her weapon. What on Earth was going on?

'Hey guys,' Abby ventured cautiously. 'Doing some kind of role play or re-enactment?'

Tony wrenched his gaze away from McGee and turned to Abby. He attempted a smile but it was poor imitation of the smiles he usually sent her way.

'Gibbs evict you?' he asked, attempting a jovial tone.

'I get to take you to lunch,' Abby said, casting a worried eye over McGee who was returning to his own desk in silence.

'Not hungry,' Tony told her. 'Thought I'd come and take a nap on your futon,' he added, before she started lecturing him about the need to look after himself.

'An excellent idea that Gibbs and Ducky will definitely approve of,' she told him, threading her arm through his as they began walking to the elevator.

'_And then you can tell me what the hell just happened' _Abby thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Golden Child

Chapter 6

Gibbs strode purposefully through the bullpen on his way back from seeing Ducky. Ziva looked up and acknowledged him with a nod while McGee was working furiously at his keyboard. Satisfied, Gibbs ascended the stairs to Vance's office. The Director had summoned him and Gibbs knew in his gut that it was to discuss Dinozzo. Gibbs hoped he'd been successful in his ploy to make Tony scarce by sending him out to lunch with Abby. There was no way he wanted to witness a confrontation between Vance and Dinozzo when his senior field agent was impaired. He knew that Abby would squeal with delight at the thought of Gibbs protecting Tony from Vance, which was precisely why he hadn't told her about the summons.

Sure enough, Vance barely waited for Gibbs to sit down before he started grilling him about how long Tony would have his hand out of action.

'Some weeks,' said Gibbs, deliberately vague.

'You need an agent to replace him,' Vance told him, straight to the point. 'I've got a list for you to look at, or I'll select one if you prefer.'

To say that Gibbs was pissed off by Vance's approach would be a major understatement. For a start, Vance hadn't shown an ounce of concern about how Tony was coping. Secondly, Gibbs doubted Vance would be in a hurry to get Tony back if he was replaced. Thirdly, and most importantly, Gibbs was sick of hearing Vance tell him what he needed.

'I don't need to replace an agent that's doing his job, Leon,' he told him, his voice cool. Losing it at Vance wouldn't do Tony any favors.

Vance's reply was to raise one eyebrow.

'Dinozzo was due in court this morning,' explained Gibbs. 'He represented the agency on three cases. Three great results. No point replacing an agent who's doing a job like that.'

Vance was genuinely surprised. He had assumed that Dinozzo hadn't even been at work that morning. He must have put in a great performance in court because Leon knew those three cases had not been straightforward. However, days in court were not a daily requirement for an NCIS agent.

'What use is he gonna be in the bullpen?' Vance challenged Gibbs. 'I've seen the way the man types! And surely you can't be thinking that he'd be any use at all in the field.'

Gibbs was tempted to tell Vance that he'd prefer a one-handed Tony in the field to an able-bodied McGee, but he resisted.

'Apart from looking for Reed, things are slow,' said Gibbs. 'If we get a case that calls for legwork, I'll request a temp.'

Vance was firmly of the belief that Gibbs would rather walk over hot coals than replace Dinozzo. He'd seen that look in Gibbs' eyes before and it intrigued him.

'What's he got over you?' Vance bluntly asked Gibbs.

'What?' demanded Gibbs, taken aback by the direct, personal question.

'Well, are you related? Do you owe him money?' asked Vance. 'You put up a good act of giving Dinozzo a hard time, Gibbs, and Lord knows I've heard agents on other teams talk about the living hell Dinozzo must endure working with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but you've got more than that man's six and I wanna know why.'

Gibbs knew it was true that he owed his life to Tony. The man had, after all, pulled him dead from a submerged car, and he'd always had Tony's loyalty. But he wasn't going to tell Vance that. And it wasn't the only reason Gibbs was so fiercely protective of him either. It might be because Tony was younger than Gibbs but still old school and appreciative of the methods Gibbs uses. It might be because Tony puts up with his crap but cheerfully sticks around anyway. It might be because Tony was as estranged from any biological family as Gibbs was. But none of that was any of Vance's business. He wasn't going to tell any of this to a man who couldn't even ask whether Tony was doing okay.

'He's got nothing on me Leon, other than being a member of my team,' Gibbs told him, standing up. He crossed to the door without waiting for a dismissal.

Vance doesn't buy it, but that's how they leave the discussion – for now.

…………………………………………….

Tony had stretched his 6 foot 2 frame the full length of Abby's futon in the dimly lit corner of her lab. Abby had flopped down next to him, and was curled against his side. She could feel the tension radiating from him. She can count on one hand how many times she's heard real anger in Tony's voice, and she doubts she's ever heard him really angry with another team member before. Pissed off, maybe. Sarcastic, definitely. Exasperated, sometimes. But never angry like she'd just heard him. Against her nature, Abby stayed quiet for a while. She knows that Tony is processing. She hopes he'll talk to her about what happened. She doesn't really want to leave him to interrogate McGee. She'd rather hear it from Tony, so she waits.

Tony felt totally drained. In less than forty-eight hours, he'd gone from being rapt that McGee had agreed to come to the gym with him, to practically yelling at him in the bullpen. There had been the shock of the serious injury, a wave of self-pity and then the arrival of Gibbs to drag him out into the world. The morning had gone really well, but now all the euphoria of the courtroom and Gibbs' approval had dissipated. The situation had become very complicated and he didn't have the physical or mental energy to deal with it. He seriously needed some rest. But as tired as he was, his mind could not rest. He was troubled by the exchange he had just had.

'McGee hates me Abby,' he finally told her with a sigh.

'Why do you think that?' asked Abby, being careful not to dismiss what Tony had said, even though she didn't believe there was any truth in it.

'I dunno. Took the whole Probie thing too far?' suggested Tony, his voice quiet. 'He's not so green anymore.'

'But he's still **your** Probie,' said Abby. 'Gibbs was a Probie, and he still is to Mike Franks. You're Gibbs' Probie, and even if you leave here to run your own team, (which you won't because if you did I'd be so, so cross with you), you'd **still** be Gibbs' Probie. It's just the way it works.'

Tony said nothing in response to that. In truth, he didn't know what to say. McGee had said he wanted to 'fix things', but Tony had ended up making a cutting remark that probably said more about Tony's own insecurities than it did about his relationship with McGee. Vance had made his dislike and disapproval of Tony very clear, while he took every opportunity to pat McGee on the head like he was some kind of Golden Retriever. Tony got no points with Vance whatsoever for being Gibbs' loyal St. Bernard. While Tony had no particular desire to please Vance, it did cut him that the Director was so dismissive of him, despite his seniority over McGee. It bothered Tony that he'd given McGee a serve because of his own feelings of rejection.

Abby reached up and began to gently run her fingers through Tony's hair. Although she knew his mind was full of racing thoughts, she could also see that he needed some rest. There was no way Tony would get any rest unless he aired some of his feelings. She knew that the general rules were that Dinozzos didn't cry and Dinozzos didn't air their feelings, but those rules didn't apply when they were sharing a futon in her lab.

'Does McGee really have a golden crown that I don't know about?' she asked quietly.

'Because if he does, I'm gonna punch him on the arm for not showing it to me.'

Tony smiled slightly at the way Abby had revealed she had heard the tail end of his exchange with McGee.

'He thinks Gibbs isn't taking any notice of him because of what happened,' Tony admitted, his eyes closing as he felt the soothing effect of Abby's fingers. 'He feels like Gibbs is giving him a hard time.'

Abby wasn't surprised, but she still managed to feel annoyed with McGee. McGee was sensitive to criticism and didn't like being told he'd made a mistake, but his whole way of life meant that any unfortunate incident at work like that was really just a tiny blip on the radar. McGee had a great relationship with his parents, a strong bond with his sister, respect of his colleagues, plenty of material possessions and a second career as a writer. He was also really, really smart, albeit in a geeky sort of way, making him the apple of Vance's eye. McGee was 'new school' with I.T. skills to die for. For Tony, however, criticism and disapproval at work affected him on a much deeper level. His biological family was practically non-existent, and making Tony an agent afloat was pretty much irrefutable evidence that Vance disliked him. Sure, Tony had great looks and loads of charm, but Tony knew that neither of those qualities earned him brownie points with the director. No wonder Tony had uncharacteristically lost it with McGee. Compared with Tony's situation, McGee really had nothing to complain about.

'You're both having a hard time in different ways,' Abby told him, diplomatically. 'McGee doesn't hate you. He's just stressing out under Gibbs' death stare. Gibbs will settle down soon, and McGee will get over it.'

Tony felt his mind calm down as Abby's fingers slowed their motion through his hair. While moments ago he was wound as tightly as a spring, now he felt close to sleep.

'Will you put toothpaste on my toothbrush again tonight?' he whispered.

'For as long as you need me to,' she whispered back.


	7. Chapter 7

Golden Child

Chapter 7

More than an hour had passed since Gibbs had returned to his desk, and still there had been no sign of Tony. His gut wasn't telling him that there was anything seriously wrong, but nor was it telling him why he wasn't seeing his number one field agent sitting at his desk. Lunch at NCIS was half an hour – 45 minutes absolute tops. 'With Abby' had been Ziva's answer to Gibbs' unspoken question twenty minutes ago. McGee had not taken his eyes from his screen for a second. After another fifteen minutes had gone by, Gibbs finally headed off to the lab, admitting to himself that while he wasn't worried, he needed his curiosity satisfied.

………………………………………

It was a fully functional forensic laboratory, and it served NCIS exceptionally well, but it was hardly conventional. Abby' scientific skills were incredibly developed, but her attire and behaviour suggested otherwise. Even now, as she peered into her microscope, she was listening to heavy metal music courtesy of her earplugs. Gibbs could discern the tune (if that was the right word for it) from where he stood in the doorway. He noticed that Abby glanced from time to time to the far corner of the lab. Following the direction of her eyes, Gibbs realized why. Smiling slightly, he entered the lab and tapped her on the shoulder. Abby turned and placed her finger to her lips. Gibbs pulled her ear plugs out in response.

'Don't you dare wake him,' hissed Abby, placing her hands on her hips.

'Not planning to,' said Gibbs, slightly bemused by her critical, protective tone.

'We have to fix things,' continued Abby, her face stern and worried.

'Such as?' enquired Gibbs.

'Things,' repeated Abby. 'We didn't go to lunch because Tony wasn't hungry, and Tony wasn't hungry because he and McGee had some kind of argument, and Tony was really angry with McGee, but then he was sad about losing it with him, and McGee's probably sad too, but he doesn't know what to say to fix things, and McGee's got Tony all wrong, and I hate how Vance is still splitting up this team, even though he's doing it metaphorically rather than physically, and I just don't get how Vance doesn't know what a great agent Tony is, and we have to fix it, Gibbs. Tell me everything's going to be okay, and that things will go back to how they were before all of this.'

'It's gonna be okay,' said Gibbs, quietly as Abby dropped her assertive stance and allowed herself to be drawn into a hug. It really would be okay, but Gibbs doubted if things would go back to how they were before. He couldn't undo the whole U.S.S. Reagan fiasco and the effect that it had had on Tony. And, once again, Gibbs found himself wondering about Abby and Tony. He doubted whether Abby would be quite so fired up over McGee or Ziva as she'd just been about Tony.

The beeping of one of Abby's 'babies' interrupted their hug as she hastily silenced it.

'If he wakes up soon,' said Gibbs, 'send him back to the bullpen. If not, I'll stop by on my way out to drive him home.'

'No need', said Abby as she began tapping expertly away on her keypad. 'I'm staying over again. He needs me.'

'Okay,' said Gibbs,' just don't keep him up all night on Caffpow and DVDS.'

Gibbs' words were strict but he found himself oddly glad that Abby would have Tony's six again that night.

………………………………………

The next two days went by smoothly enough, but without a single new lead as to the whereabouts of Marcus Reed, the ruthless carjacker./killer. Tony continued to come into to work to compete 'light duties' He only normally used to fingers to type anyways, so his injury hardly affected his typing speed. The tension between McGee and Tony remained. Gibbs was well aware of it– it was hard to ignore – but he didn't try to address it. How could he, besides giving both of them a headslap? McGee wasn't a child, and neither was Tony. Gibbs wasn't going to insult either of them by delivering a lecture. He chose to have faith that the two agents would work things out before Tony returned to field work.

McGee had continued to feel unnerved about the 'incident'. Tony's presence and obvious incapacitation were constant reminders of it. He also hated the fact that Abby seemed to have taken Tony's side. He felt irked and annoyed but chose not to say anything in case he was accused of petulance. Damn it, he_** felt**_ petulant! But then he also felt guilty at begrudging Tony some attention from Abby. The poor guy couldn't drive his car or button his own shirt! Gibbs had stopped snapping at McGee, but Gibbs' words to him were more direct than usual, if that were even possible.

Tony had actually started to see the upside of the whole situation, which would have really irritated McGee had the younger agent known this. Tony hated not being out in the field, but at least he was still at work. And having Abby at his apartment each night was an absolute bonus. They shared conversation, breakfast, dinner and movies. It was just about as close to domestic bliss that Tony had ever experienced. Just having someone there was really nice, he had to admit. Of course she was also right there to undo jars, tie laces and put his watch on. Having someone so willing to attend to his needs like that was new for Tony and he'd decided he actually liked it, despite his independence that had been cultivated over many years of having to look after himself. But maybe that was because she was Abby. Anyway, he'd stopped telling her that she didn't have to stay and look after him. He was both scared and hopeful when he considered that she might actually stay over for six weeks!

On the third day, the morning quiet of the bullpen was disturbed by the opening of the elevator, the thud of heavy boots and an admonishing Abby. Gibbs looked up from his desk to see Tony heads straight to his chair and Abby heading straight for Gibbs.

'Tony won't say,' she began, her eyes flashing, 'but he needs to go to the hospital to get his fingers checked out again.'

'Abby, it's fine', Tony interrupted, but he was silenced by the glare she sent his way.

'No, mister, it is NOT fine. You shouldn't feel any pain in a plastered hand. You said it hurt last might, and I can tell it's still hurting.'

'That is true,' said Ziva from her chair. 'You should not be feeling pain. It could perhaps be a blood clot.'

'Well, I'm frankly surprised,' said Tony. 'I had no idea the pair of you had medical degrees, did you Boss?'

'No I didn't, but you'll be getting it checked out,' Gibbs told him, just before he was cut short by the ringing of his phone.

'Gibbs!' he barked in his characteristic manner.

'Satisfied?' whispered Tony accusingly in Ziva's direction.

'I merely agreed with Abby,' retorted Ziva. 'And Gibbs is wise to tell you to get it checked out.'

'He needs to go to the hospital that originally did the X-rays,' said Abby. 'Once I get the word from the Bossman, I'll take him.'

'Hey, I _**am**_ here you know,' protested Tony, sulkily.

Gibbs put down his phone, pulled out his drawer and holstered his gun.

'Gibbs, permission to take Tony to hospital?' asked Abby, expectantly as Tony rolled his eyes.

'Permission denied,' Gibbs told her, to Tony's delight. 'There's been a murder – FBI agent on a naval base. Evidence is about to arrive at your lab any second, Abs. Number one priority. Ziva, I want you to got to the scene and observe until I get there.' Seeing McGee stand up, Gibbs shook his head. 'Not you MGee,' he told him. Strict instructions to send two agents only. Fornell's taking the lead on this one.'

'What do you want me to do?' asked McGee, trying not to show the rejection he felt.

Gibbs' eyes traveled to Tony and caught sight of a grimace of pain as his Number One Agent tried to rotate his injured hand.

'Take Dinozzo to the hospital,' said Gibbs, decisively. 'And neither of you leaves until a doctor examines that hand.'

And there was real irony in how McGee felt at that point because he really did believe that Ziva had been given the task that Gibbs regarded as being of greatest importance.


	8. Chapter 8

Golden Child

_Hi! Lovely reviews – thank you for your generosity and your patience. Only a couple of chapters left of this one before I do a few more M&F's. Zan. X_

Chapter 8

Without another word to his team, Gibbs was handing Ziva a scribbled location on his way up the stairs. The Mossad agent looked as though she was going to say something to either Tony or McGee, but appeared to change her mind before hurrying out. Abby gave Tony a wave goodbye and mouthed BE NICE to McGee as she left, leaving the two agents alone.

Tony leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. McGee pretended to stare at his computer screen. An awkward silence descended upon them.

McGee, besides feeling like he had been dudded by Gibbs, was wondering just how difficult Tony was going to be. Like it or not, McGee had been given a mission and he was expected to carry it out to the letter. If Tony refused to budge, there would be precious little McGee could do about it, besides enlisting security to physically move him out of the building against his will. It would be just like Tony to carry on and make life difficult for him. All the same, the older agent's usually cocky mouth had, amazingly, remained shut. Maybe he really was having a relapse.

Tony was amazed at how palpable and tangible some emotions were. He could almost see the resentment emanating from McGee. And really, could he expect anything less? If he were in McGee's position he'd feel like he'd landed a crap deal. He leaned forward in his chair as a fresh wave of pain made its way through his ring finger.

'It's okay, McGee,' he said quietly. 'I'll just take a cab.'

The comment struck McGee like a bolt of lightning. Tony really believed he wouldn't drive him to the hospital – but worse than that, Tony was actually going to hospital voluntarily!

'No. no,' stammered McGee, getting up and reaching for his jacket. 'I'll take you. You heard Gibbs.'

'Gibbs doesn't care **how** I get there,' continued Tony. 'As long as I get checked out, your ass is safe. I'll call a cab?' He reached for his phone and began dialing.

McGee quickly covered the distance between his desk and Tony's and pressed the CANCEL button on the phone. Tony looked up and met McGee's eyes.

'I don't care if Gibbs doesn't care how you get there,' said McGee. 'I _**want**_ to drive you the hospital.'

Tony held McGee's gaze for a while, trying to see behind the younger agent's words. It was true that this might just be a clever ploy to get him to comply, but there was a possibility that McGee was being genuine. And he really didn't fancy traveling by cab. A luxury sports car was so much more comfortable.

'I don't know, McGee,' he ventured carefully. 'Our first date didn't turn out so well.'

'Oh, just shut the hell up,' McGee told him as he broke their mutual gaze and began walking to the elevator.

'Interesting start to a second date,' remarked Tony as he followed him, the corners of his mouth rising in amusement.

…………………………………………………..

Abby's fingers flew over her keyboard as she sought the answers she desperately needed. She was short on time and short on answers. She was so intent on her task that she didn't notice Ducky enter the lab.

'Abby, my dear,' he said in greeting. 'Are you already busy processing evidence? I'm afraid Mr. Palmer and I haven't received the body as yet.'

'What?' asked Abby, her face confused as she turned her head to look at him.

'The murdered FBI agent,' Ducky explained. 'I'm still waiting for the body. Given your frenetic activity, you're clearly already working on your side of the case.'

'No,' Abby told him, returning to her task. 'I'm trying to find out as much as I can before the evidence, whatever it is, gets here. Because after it gets here I won't have any time to do this, unless I get sneaky about it, and I don't really want to because I know how much Gibbs will want this one solved, but I'm really worried that it's something serious that the doctors will miss, and as much as I would really like to put toothpaste on Tony's toothbrush for the rest of his life, I'd rather it not be because he can't physically do that task on his own.'

Ducky raised his eyebrows at the revelation at the end of Abby's rambling, but then he quickly filed it away to ponder over at a later time. There appeared to be a more pressing matter to attend to.

'Abigail, my dear, what has you so concerned about Anthony?' Ducky enquired gently.

'His hand is hurting,' she explained as she scrolled through the information on the screen. 'It started bothering him last night and then again this morning. It shouldn't still be hurting, Ducky. Ziva said it could be a blood clot, and it says here that blood clots can travel from a wound site to the brain and cause lots of damage. Or maybe it means that his fingers aren't going to heal properly and that his right hand is going to be permanently messed up and then he won't be able to fire a gun and so he won't be able to work here anymore.'

Ducky reached out and stilled her hands with his own.

'Abby,' he soothed as she shot a panic-stricken look his way. 'As touching as it is to see you so concerned about a colleague, I most certainly do not recommend searching for medical diagnosis on the internet. A person can convince themselves they have even the most improbable conditions simply by trawling the internet. In fact, I know of a woman in her seventies who convinced herself she must be pregnant, despite being celibate for ten years, simply because she Googled food cravings and the urge to spring-clean. If you're worried about Anthony you should convince him to see a doctor.'

'I have,' said Abby. 'Well, strictly speaking I convinced Gibbs who gave McGee a direct order to take Tony to the hospital.'

'Well there you are then,' said Ducky, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. 'It's most likely a minor issue that will be well in hand, pardon the pun, by the evening.'

Abby rewarded the elderly M.E. with a small smile and logged off, just as a courier arrived with the high priority evidence.

'Will you call the hospital later to speak with the doc who sees Tony?' asked Abby as she signed for the packages.

'Absolutely, my dear,' said Ducky as he moved toward the door. 'I best be getting back. Our guest may have already arrived.'

As he made his way back to Autopsy, Ducky thought about Abby's toothpaste comment. He had to admit that it made him smile. _I wonder_ _if Jethro knows about this _ he mused.


	9. Chapter 9

Golden Child

Chapter 9

'I know, I know. Ziva would have beaten the red light,' said McGee as he brought his car to a stop at the busy intersection. Tony looked at McGee in surprised amusement.

'McGee,' he said. 'One, I was SO not going to say that. Only Gibbs can predict what people are going to say. Two, I'm certainly not in a hurry to get to the hospital. And three…McGee! Look there!'

McGee followed the direction Tony was pointing in and saw a man walking along the sidewalk.

'See him?' asked Tony.

'What about him?' returned McGee. 'It's just some guy.'

'It's Read!' exclaimed Tony. 'Same clothes as the day he held us up. Obviously doesn't have an extensive wardrobe.'

'How can you be sure?' asked McGee. 'He's walking away from us.'

'Because I'm sure,' affirmed Tony. 'Pull over.'

'What? Are you crazy?' protested McGee. 'Even if it IS Read, which you have yet to prove to me because there must be more than one guy in this city wearing that kind of jacket, we can't go near him without backup.'

'What do you mean we haven't got backup?' Tony said incredulously. 'We've got each other as backup. You DID bring your gun this time, didn't you? I've got mine.'

'Yes I brought my gun!' exploded McGee. 'But what good is yours? You can't fire straight with your left hand!'

'Yeah, but READ doesn't know that,' said Tony, happily. 'Come on. Pull over into that laneway. The lights are green. Mush!'

'Don't mush me,' grumbled McGee. He found himself complying for God knows what reason. 'Gibbs is gonna kill me,' he added.

Once the car was parked, McGee scrambled out and hurried to keep up with Tony who had quickly made his way to the main street.

'He's there,' hissed Tony as McGee caught up with him. 'He's standing out front of the café. I can see his face now.'

'Is it Read?' asked McGee, squinting to see across the distance between them and the café.

'Not sure,' replied Tony, thoughtfully.

'You see the back of him and you're sure and now you see his face and you're not!' hissed McGee. 'Make up your mind!'

'Come on McGee,' said Tony, pretending to be hurt. 'The guy was actually crushing my hand when we last met. I wasn't really able to focus on his face. Have you got your fancy phone thingy?'

'Yeah, why?' asked McGee, getting the device out of his pocket.

'Take his picture, send it to Abby and get her to check it against her photograph of Read,' said Tony.

'She's busy processing evidence for the FBI murder,' McGee told him.

'Oh don't be such a party pooper!' Tony implored him. 'She'll do it. Tell her it's worth a dozen Cafpows.'

'Okay!' exclaimed McGee. He took the photograph and began sending it and a text to Abby. Tony kept his keen eyes trained on the man he believed to be Read. The adrenalin coursing through his body had more than taken the edge off the discomfort in his hand. The hospital could wait. This was potentially too an opportunity to miss.


	10. Chapter 10

**Golden Child**

_**A THOUSAND apologies for keeping you guys waiting for the end of this!! I've tried to make up for it by posting this extra large chapter. Thankyou for ALL the lovely PM's and reviews and encouragement. Hope the last couple of chapters don't disappoint. Zan **_

Chapter 10

When Gibbs first reacted to Abby's phone call, he was pretty much guilty of killing the messenger. There he was, alongside grieving and accusatory FBI personnel, a clamoring media pack and Fornell demanding answers, and then Abby had rung to tell him that McGee had sent him a recently snapped photo of Marcus Reed. She was worried and thought that Gibbs should know. Gibbs had been more terse and dismissive than he usually was with his forensic scientist before terminating the call.

Intellectually, Gibbs was aware that his most immediate concern was the crime scene he was looking at. McGee and Dinozzo were on their way to the hospital and not actively investigating any current case. There was no reason why he should be distracted by Abby's phone call. Gibbs had received no messages of distress from either of his agents. But even though his mind told him where his focus should be, Gibbs' gut was telling him a totally different story.

………………………………………………

'Abby's given me a positive I.D.' reported McGee as he and Tony continued to surreptitiously watch Reed from their vantage point. 'Let's call it in.'

As McGee went to dial 911, Tony swiftly took his the phone from his hand.

'Hey!' protested McGee.

'Calm down,' hissed Tony. 'Why call for help? _We _can take him. We _are_ federal agents in case you've forgotten. Two against one is great odds.'

'But you're incapacitated!' McGee reminded him, his tone incredulous. 'And Reed is the one who did it! He's gonna know!'

'He doesn't know I'm not left-handed,' Tony told him, refusing to be put off. 'Come on. He's moving.'

McGee was about to protest further, but something propelled him into following the senior agent. Logically, it made no sense to do what they were doing, but he was mindful of how strained the atmosphere between he and Tony had become. He found himself wanting to just follow Tony's lead; to show him that he could be counted on to have the older man's six. Despite his obvious physical discomfort, Tony had that glint in his eye that often appeared when he was on the verge of breaking a case wide open. There was just no way of stopping the agent when he was operating in that mode.

The two NCIS agents followed Reed as he walked a short distance along the busy street. Neither man needed to say that it was too risky to take on their target in a place where there were so many potential hostages.

Suddenly their quarry walked briskly into a laneway, disappearing from view. Spurred on by Tony's enthusiasm, Tim jogged with the older agent to laneway entrance. Peering into the laneway, Tony could see no sign of Reed.

'Can't see him,' hissed Tony as McGee came to stand closely beside him. 'And he can't have made it out of the lane that quickly.'

Tony ignored the fresh twinge of discomfort in his hand and tightened his grip on the weapon he now held in his left.

'Maybe he's taking a leak,' suggested Tony. 'Time to flush him out.'

McGee groaned slightly at the pun before following Tony into the lane.

The NCIS pair followed standard procedure. They took turns watching each other's backs as they checked each doorway on the quiet laneway. When they had reached the end and then made their way back to where they had entered, McGee could sense Tony's frustration, but he could actually see the film of perspiration that was covering Tony's face. It was probably just as well that they had lost Reed. Tony's appearance at the hospital was long overdue.

'Come on Tony,' said McGee. 'We'll call in the sighting on our way.'

'You give up too easily,' Tony scolded him, his eyes scanning the streetscape. His keen eyes spied the movement of a shadow in the doorway of one of the buildings.

'Okay Reed,' he called out. 'We can see you. Come out where we can see you – nice and slow.'

Sure enough, Reed slowly emerged from his hiding place and moved slowly out onto the sidewalk.

'Now how nice is this?' said Tony. 'A little reunion. Just the three of us. Now you're gonna turn around, nice and slow so that Agent McGee here can cuff you. And then, guess what? You're gonna take a ride in his Saab after all.'

Unfortunately for Tony, his body took that precise moment to betray him. A surge of intense pain coursed down his injured hand and he involuntarily dropped the weapon to clutch at his right wrist. McGee only glanced sideways for a moment but was distracted enough to not notice Reed draw his own weapon and train it on a visibly paler Tony.

'Shoot me and I'll shoot him,' Reed spat at McGee.

'C-come on! He needs a hospital already,' stammered McGee. 'No thanks to you.'

'He'll need a morgue soon,' said Reed, sneering nastily.

'Shoot him McGee,' managed Tony through gritted teeth.

'No!' shouted McGee. It was true that he found the notion of killing a man abhorrent, but the idea of causing Reed to shoot Tony was a hundred times worse.

Reed laughed and snorted.

'You two should make some kind of comedy sitcom,' he suggested. 'Now, Agent McGee, you're gonna toss me the keys to your car and then all three of us will take a nice stroll to where you parked it.'

McGee kept his weapon trained on Reed, but he could see Tony in his peripheral vision. His colleague was shaking slightly and the lack of movie references coming from Tony's mouth told McGee that he was struggling to hold it together.

As Gibbs brutally took the corner into the laneway, the sight of three men came into view. There was no mistaking Tony's lanky frame. Marcus Reed, his back to Gibbs, had a weapon trained on the senior field agent while McGee had his gun pointed at Reed. Gibbs could well imagine what Tony was telling McGee to do, and while it was exactly what Gibbs would be saying, he wanted to head-slap Dinozzo into next week for saying it. Planning to take a sniper's hit at Reed, Gibbs pulled over; his eyes still fixed on the trio.

'Come on. Toss the keys,' repeated Reed, his fingers tightening on the trigger of his gun.

'Shoot him McGee,' grunted Tony, resisting the urge to sink to his knees as the pain in his hand went up a notch.

His mouth dry and his heart in his throat, McGee slowly reached into his pocket to remove his keys. He couldn't risk shooting at Reed because that would mean the killer would dispense with Tony. Maybe on their way to get McGee's car they would have an opportunity to over-power Reed.

But then something happened that caused a surge of greater annoyance – maybe even rage- than McGee could ever have imagined feeling under such fearful circumstances. As a groan of agony escaped Tony's lips, McGee saw a flash of enjoyment flicker across Reed's face. The awareness that this scumbag was getting off on his partner's suffering made McGee's blood boil. Knowing that Reed was expecting McGee to throw him the car keys, McGee did so, hard – right at the crim's face. Seizing the moment that Reed was caught off guard, McGee stepped forward and slammed his gun viciously against the side of Reed's head. Reed hit the ground with a thud, his eyes rolling back in his head.

'Way to go Probie,' uttered Tony weakly as Reed lay still. The agent had finally collapsed to his knees with exhaustion from the pain. 'You think you can get me to the hospital now?' he added as he stretched himself out on his back on the sidewalk.

McGee's jaw dropped open at the request. Tony actually requesting medical help was an extremely bad sign.

'I'm ringing an ambulance right now,' McGee told him as he felt for his phone.

'It's on its way,' came a gruff voice.

'Boss!' exclaimed McGee. 'How did….?'

''I'm gonna cuff this guy in case he wakes up,' said Gibbs. 'You watch Dinozzo.'

Gibbs' tone was harsh, but McGee got that the fact that he was delegating Tony-watch to him spoke of renewed approval and trust. Not wanting to screw it up, McGee crossed to Tony and squatted down in front of him. He could see the agent's eyes were becoming glassy and unfocussed.

'How're you doing?' McGee asked as he took off his jacket and spread it over the prone man.

'Mmm fine,' was the predictable, mumbled reply. Despite his announcement, Tony did not protest as McGee helped him to roll onto his side. From the ground, Tony enjoyed the distraction of Gibbs roughly cuffing the unconscious Reed to the base of a parking meter.

He wanted to ask why Gibbs was even there and how he knew where they were, but Tony didn't have the energy. Feeling the warmth of McGee's jacket, and hearing McGee say something indistinguishable, Tony shut his eyes.

Satisfied that Reed was secure, Gibbs was also pleased to hear the ambulance siren approaching from a few streets away. As he took the few steps towards his two agents, McGee looked up.

'Boss, I think he's going into shock,' McGee told him, his eyes full of concern. 'He's been in a lot of pain. He actually said he wanted to go to the hospital.'

'Go get your car,' Gibbs told him, dropping the keys into McGee's hand.

Tony fought to make his way through the fog that appeared to have invaded his brain. He was vaguely aware of Gibbs' voice, but that didn't make any sense, nor did the rough surface beneath his cheek. The pressure of a hand gripping his shoulder caused him to open one eye a crack to see Gibbs giving him a concerned assessment.

'Hang in there Dinozzo,' said the ex-marine.

An outsider would have described those four words as an instruction or command, harsh and inappropriate given the circumstances, but Tony took much strength from them – even though he couldn't fathom why he was seeing Gibbs there on the sidewalk with him. He must be hallucinating.

'You with me?' asked the hallucination.

Tony peered at Gibbs.

'Not real,' he said, his voice weak and strained.

'Real enough to make sure you get into the damn ambulance when it arrives,' Gibbs told him, moving his hand from Tony's shoulder to his forehead. The younger man's skin was cold and clammy.

'What about the navy base?' asked Tony as he slipped back into lucidity.

'What about it?' countered Gibbs as the ambulance pulled up, just as McGee returned in his car.

Conversation between Gibbs and his senior field agent ceased as the paramedics descended upon the scene. Tony could hear questions being asked by the newcomers and answered by McGee and by Gibbs. Lying there on the sidewalk, Tony felt oddly put out that they weren't asking HIM any questions, but then it was kind of nice to just let everything wash over him.

'….and how often was he complaining about the pain?' Paramedic 1 was asking McGee as Paramedic 2 was taking Tony's vitals.

'Well, he wasn't actually complaining much about pain,' said McGee, 'but at one point his hand must have really hurt because it made him drop his weapon, and before we even approached the suspect, I could tell he was hurting, even though he wouldn't admit it.'

''Hey! Isn't it saying enough that my agent's semi-conscious and going into shock from the pain he must be in?' barked Gibbs. 'Get him off the god-damn sidewalk before I drive him to Bethesda myself.'

Paramedic 1 looked down at Paramedic 2 who nodded his agreeance.

McGee and Gibbs stepped back to give them room to place Tony on the stretcher, the lower part of his right arm positioned carefully to avoid unnecessary jostling. As Tony was being loaded into the ambulance, Gibbs approached. Despite the seriousness of the situation, McGee smiled as he saw Paramedic 1 brace himself for an expected rant from Gibbs.

'Tony,' said Gibbs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, as he placed his hand atop his agent's head. 'I'll meet you there. Take it easy.' He waited until Tony nodded before stepping back and rejoining McGee.

Once the ambulance was on its way, Gibbs turned his attention to McGee. Expecting an angry lecture about not following orders, McGee winced slightly in anticipation.

'Think you can handle taking this scumbag back to the office?' asked Gibbs, gesturing towards Reed. His tone was quiet and hard to read.

'Yes,' said McGee. 'I'll try not to mess that up,' he added.

'Not what I meant, McGee,' said Gibbs. 'Ideally at least two agents would escort a prisoner, but now there are** two** other places I've gotta get to, so if you're okay with it, I trust you to do it. Otherwise, call for a back-up.'

McGee's chest visibly swelled with pride. Strangely, despite failing his mission to get Tony to the hospital in the first place, all seemed to have been forgiven.

…………………………………..

Gibbs dropped into the visitor's chair in the hospital room and allowed himself to relax a little. The previous few hours had been busy to say the least. Once the medical staff had Tony thoroughly assessed and sent him into surgery to fix whatever the hell the problem was with his hand, Gibbs had sped back to the high priority crime scene and taken charge of proceedings there. Fornell hadn't been very happy about Gibbs leaving, but had wisely chosen not to do battle over it with him at the scene once he had returned. Gibbs had also contacted Ducky who had immediately liaised with the staff with Bethesda – an all-important detail when Gibbs would need a medical report in layman's terms. The crime scene secured and evidence gathered, Gibbs had sent Ziva back to NCIS. He had broken a few speed laws on his return to the hospital. And now here he was back with Dinozzo again.

Seeing Tony's nose wrinkle and lips twitch slightly, Gibbs leaned forward. As Tony opened his eyes a crack, Gibbs' face swam into focus. The all too familiar smell of antiseptic immediately told Tony that he was in the hospital.

'Hey,' said Gibbs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Tony blinked once slowly in response before trying unsuccessfully to lift his right hand.

'Easy,' Gibbs warned him, his voice still quiet. 'No moving that until you get the all-clear from the doc. What me to call him?'

Tony gave a slight shake of his head. He was never in a hurry to see medical staff.

'Water,' Tony managed, hoarsely.

Gibbs passed the cup and straw left by the nurse to Tony's lips and waited until the younger man's mouth and throat were soothed and moistened.

'We've gotta stop having these meetings in hospital rooms, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs.

'Fine with me,' said Tony. 'Reed?'

'In custody,' Gibbs told him.

'McGee did good Boss,' was Tony's next comment. 'I dropped the ball. Probie… pretty resourceful.'

'Resourceful, huh?' said Gibbs, raising his eyebrows. He realized that Tony didn't know that Gibbs had watched pretty much the whole incident.

'What I wanna know,' the lead agent said, 'is why McGee didn't just shoot the bastard once his keys hit him in the face. Hell of a lot easier and less risky than whacking him with the gun.'

Tony was momentarily stunned by the psychic powers that his Boss must possess along with all the other powers, before he more logically reasoned that McGee must have given him a report. Actually, a light bulb suddenly pinged in his short term memory that told him that Gibbs had actually been at the scene. He hadn't been hallucinating after all.

'Probie gets squeamish,' Tony finally offered as an explanation for McGee's behavior. 'Besides, Reed said if McGee shot him, he'd shoot me. Guess he thought he'd whack him instead and then sue him later Reed shot me anyway.'

Tony stopped rambling and looked towards the water that Gibbs duly offered to him again. _Jeez, I'm starting to sound like Abby _Tony mused to himself as he felt the blessed liquid make its way down his throat. Damn anesthetic did it to him every time.

'Doesn't matter anyway,' Tony continued. 'Results matter; not the method.'

Hoping to change the subject and take any heat off McGee, Tony tried to get a look at his hand. It was heavily covered in post-surgical dressing.

Gibbs immediately answered Tony's unspoken question:

'Something about a clot, a nerve and a floating bone,' he told Tony.

Seeing his agent's eyes suddenly grow wider and a little fearful, Gibbs hastily added:

'Fine now though. Duck says there's reason why you won't get full use back.'

Tony shakily exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It was scary to think that a stupid injury to his hand could have done what the plague, gunshot wounds and being framed for murder hadn't: ended his career.

Gibbs watched Tony's eyelids droop and wondered if he were drifting off to sleep again. Just as he was about to press the call button for the doctor, Tony spoke again.

'How'd you know where we were?' asked Tony, his face ashen, even against the white pillow.

'Abby,' Gibbs stated, simply. The older man saw understanding settle over Tony's face, and the beginnings of a fond smile. Again Gibbs found himself wondering about the relationship between his Senior Field Agent and Forensic Scientist. If there was anything more than friendship, Gibbs realized that he would not be nearly as outraged as he once would have been.

'What about the dead FBI agents?' was Tony's next question.

'Still dead,' Gibbs told him, grimly.

'Fornell needed you there,' argued Tony.

'Ziva had it covered,' said Gibbs.

Tony groaned inwardly at what Gibbs hadn't said. The lead agent had left a very important crime scene on the basis of a worried phone call and a hunch that his Senior Field Agent was in trouble that he couldn't handle.

'What about Vance?' asked Tony, his voice dropping to a whisper.

'I can handle Vance,' Gibbs told him.

'He pissed at you?' continued Tony.

'Not as much as he is at you and Golden Boy,' said Gibbs.

'How much?' gulped Tony.

'Oh, he hasn't said much,' Gibbs told him, 'but the words "foolhardy" and "inadequate back-up" were used more than once as I recall.'

Tony heaved a huge sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

'Guess I'll have to get my sea legs again then Boss,' he said forlornly.

Before Gibbs could assure Tony that he'd be made an agent afloat again over Gibbs' dead body, the doctor came in to check on his patient's progress and conduct an examination. Gibbs left the room and went in search of coffee and a quiet spot to make a phone call. By the time he returned, twenty minutes later, the doctor was emerging from the room.

'How is he?' demanded Gibbs, straight to the point.

'Agent Dinozzo is recovering very nicely,' the doctor told him. 'The new casts are doing their jobs, his blood pressure's fine and he'll only need to stay in one more night.'

'Medication?' asked Gibbs. Better that he hear the truth from the doctor instead of the lies from Tony.

'Just pain killers but only as required,' he was told. 'He has to avoid all use of that hand for four weeks if he wants a guarantee that full functioning will be restored.'

Thanks Doc,' said Gibbs, shaking his hand before re-entering the room. Tony looked even better than he had less than half an hour ago – probably because he knew his time in the hospital was going to be short, mused Gibbs. The head of Tony's bed was slightly inclined so that he was no longer lying completely flat. There was even a little more colour in the younger man' face. The bandaging around his hand had been reduced to three small splints.

'Hey Boss,' chirped Tony by way of greeting. 'Did you bring me pizza?'

Ignoring the question, Gibbs pulled the chair closer to the bed and began sipping his coffee. Rather than saying anything straight away, Gibbs caused Tony to squirm a little in the silence.

'What's goin' on, Boss?' asked Tony after a few more moments of non-communication. 'You're freakin' me out. Did the doc give you a different story than he gave me?'

Gibbs put the coffee down onto the meal tray and leaned slightly in Tony's direction.

'Really, what the **Hell** were you thinking approaching Reed under those circumstances?' demanded Gibbs, raising his voice slightly now that it appeared that Tony was definitely going to be fine.

'Come on Gibbs,' protested Tony, looking in vain towards the doorway for a glimpse of the friendly nurse, a visitor – even the doctor again. 'I was thinking exactly what** you** would have been thinking. Well, of course your thoughts would have been much more to the point and without movie references, but you'd have done the same thing.'

'Not with a busted hand that was giving me grief,' Gibbs told him, narrowing his eyes.

'Oh, but you would have with a head injury or broken ribs,' continued Tony, wondering if Gibbs was going to put him on desk duty for a month as punishment for begging to differ. 'And you can't deny it either, because you've been there and done that. If you had a chance to nail a killer who'd maimed one of your agents, you'd have to be practically dead before you'd let some injury stand in your way. I know how you get when it's personal.'

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at the candid assessment. He had been totally set on giving Tony a huge serve for reckless conduct and putting his own life in unnecessary danger, but now he found that he just couldn't maintain the rage. But he needed to tell Tony **something** for his own good. His mind churned with notions that Tony needed to be told to take better care of himself, that it was unnecessary for Tony to emulate the risks that Gibbs took, that he was far too reckless, that there was nothing more important than Tony being alive and healthy, that one day his luck might run out and that Gibbs would find his demise too painful to deal with.

'Just listen to what the damn doctor says or you can start looking for a job with more sick leave,' Gibbs told him in as stern a tone as he could muster.

'Oh that's harsh,' said Tony, pretending to be wounded.

'What's harsh? And Gibbs, you better not be delivering any head-slaps!' exclaimed Abby as she burst in, hearing Tony's comment.

'Not guilty. Not yet,' said Gibbs. Abby came to stand at Tony's bedside and ran a critical eye over the senior agent, looking for evidence that Gibbs had understated Tony's injuries but he had phoned her thirty minutes earlier. Seeing none, she pointed to Tony's hand that now featured three, separately splinted fingers (in addition to his thumb and pinky) and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'I decided to have it done differently this time,' Tony quipped as though they were discussing hair styles. 'Less Bond villain. More Edward Scissorhands.'

'Ohhh, I _LOVED_ Johnnny Depp in that!' gushed Abby, perching on the edge of the bed and entwining her hand with Tony's left one.

'Classic,' agreed Tony, squeezing her hand. 'What do you think Boss? Or was Pirates of the Carribean more your thing? There were more boats in that.'

'Definitely Pirates for the Bossman,' said Abby, jumping in before Gibbs had a chance to tell them he'd seen neither film. 'But stop distracting me by taking me down movie lane!' she scolded Tony. 'Can't you just be taken to hospital without confronting a serial killer and scaring me half to death?!'

'Now there's one less killer on the streets,' said Tony, his tone upbeat.

'You weren't **supposed** to be hunting killers,' Abby reminded him, squeezing his hand even harder as though he might be snatched away from her any minute.

'Abs, everything's worked out okay,' Tony said, trying to reassure her.

'But it might not have!' exclaimed Abby, her eyes boring into his as if that would make him understand. 'I get worried enough about you when you're actually _supposed_ to be out there chasing after murderers. I don't want to have to start wondering about you being killed on your way to the mall, going for a jog or washing your car. I don't want to get a call from anyone telling me you're dead and you're not coming home. Trouble finds you enough, Tony. Don't start looking for it. Please!'

Tony's mouth opened as though he was about to reply, but closed as he realized he didn't quite know what to say to such an impassioned plea. Being in such close proximity to Abby, Tony could not miss the sincere concern – and something else- in her suddenly teary eyes.

Gibbs had noticed the change in Abby's voice, particularly the way her 'please' had trembled slightly. From his chair at Tony's bedside, Gibbs was now acutely aware that his presence had likely been forgotten, albeit for the last few, intense moments. Wondering whether he should say or do anything to take the pressure off his senior field agent, the decision was made for him. Without breaking eye contact with Abby, Tony slowly reached out with his injured hand and carefully guided her face to his own until their foreheads met. With the practiced stealth of a highly trained marine, Gibbs left the chair and the room without a sound, closing the door behind him.

_**One more chapter to go! Zan **_

.

'


	11. Chapter 11

Golden Child

_Finally I can give you the last chapter of this story, which is actually more of an epilogue. As indicated in my Profile update, 2010 was a very challenging year. I never intended to take so long to finish posting a story I had begun. I actually hate it when other authors take ages to finish off a tale, so at the very least it's made me more forgiving when a story is left unfinished. Here's to a wonderful 2011 for everyone! Love, Zan X_

Chapter 11

As he sat by the door inside Vance's office, Gibbs schooled his expression as effectively as he always did. His agents had been summoned by the director, and now stood before Vance's desk. McGee, Gibbs noted, was pretty much ramrod straight; rigid with tension. Tony's stance was more relaxed. The senior field agent stood with his hands loosely by his sides. Gibbs knew that seventy-two hours after being operated on, Tony's hand must still be tender and should really be in a sling, but there was no way Tony wanted any implication that he was gunning for sympathy. Which was just as well, because there was no way Vance was going to give him any in this instance. There was a glint of amusement, Gibbs noted, in Tony's eyes, even though Vance's expression was stern. Stress was certainly emanating from McGee in waves. Gibbs had a fleeting image of a young Dinozzo standing in front of the school principal. He doubted that the young Tony then would have shown any obvious signs of being worried either.

'I can't decide,' began Vance, in an icy tone, 'if you're both deliberately contemptuous of NCIS protocol, or just plain stupid. It's true that a convicted killer is now in custody, but that hardly justifies ignoring procedures and taking unnecessary risks.'

McGee audibly swallowed. Gibbs knew that Dinozzo was going to jump to McGee's defence before the senior agent opened his mouth.

'Come on,' said Tony, in his most persuasive tone. 'It wasn't McGee's idea. Although, he did come to the party and, in the end, the whole 'putting the bad guy behind bars' thing was a team effort.'

'It wasn't _**your**_ call,' retorted Vance.

'I'm the senior field agent,' Tony reminded him.

'Not _**then**_ you weren't!' snapped Vance. 'You were off duty and in no condition to be doing anything except allowing yourself to be taken to hospital.'

'Come on, Director,' protested Tony, (still keeping the heat off McGee, Gibbs noted). 'There's no harm done, and as the man in charge, you get to put another notch in the NCIS belt.'

Vance narrowed his eyes at Tony and shook his head slightly. Gibbs could see that Vance wasn't buying it. After a long silence, Vance finally spoke.

'Your own recklessness will get you killed one day,' he said, 'but hopefully you won't take a fellow agent with you.'

Gibbs rankled at that, and Tony may have inwardly flinched, but neither man gave anything away. They rarely did.

'Rest assured that I normally go on suicide missions on behalf of this agency on my own,' said Tony. And Gibbs couldn't tell whether Tony was referring to dangerous undercover assignments NCIS had sent him on, or whether he was just being a smart-arse.

'Agent McGee,' said Vance, turning his attention to the younger agent. 'I expected better from you. Are you in the habit of blindly following Agent Dinozzo's lead?'

'N-no sir,' stammered McGee. 'I mean, yes! He is the senior field agent, but I don't follow blindly, sir.'

'So you thought going after a dangerous criminal, someone who had already held a gun to your face and crippled a federal agent, without back-up, was a good idea?' Vance raised an eyebrow to accompany his question.

The silence that followed the question was deafening. Tony forced himself to keep his own focus on Vance. This was McGee's opportunity to fry Tony. He was already the golden haired boy as far as Vance was concerned. All he had to do was suggest that Tony pressured him into a dangerous situation and/or pulled rank on him, forcing him into doing something reckless, and Vance would be sending Dinozzo off on a permanent holiday.

'It was a good result,' said McGee, finally. Without the hint of a stutter, noted Tony. In fact, he was enormously proud of the way McGee had avoided the question altogether, but he resisted the urge to slap him on the back.

Gibbs passed his hand over his mouth in the pretence of checking the closeness of his shave, just in case Vance saw the way the corners of his mouth had turned upwards at hearing the way McGee had answered him.

Vance narrowed his eyes at McGee who said nothing more. Next, he shot a look at Gibbs who merely shrugged. It was hard for Gibbs to argue that Reed behind bars was a bad result, and Gibbs couldn't be prouder of the way McGee and Dinozzo were standing before Vance as a united front. It would surely make Vance think twice before trying to break up his team again.

'They'll be notes in both of your files,' said Vance, 'and just remember that the only reason you're both back on duty so soon after this whole affair is because I have a couple of technical glitches I need sorted...By _**McGee**_,' he added sternly, just in case Dinozzo thought about offering his dubious I.T. skills. 'Dismissed.'

Gibbs followed his agents out into the hallway. The three men discovered Abby waiting anxiously.

'Abs, what are you-?' began Tony before he was enveloped in an Abby tackle.

'What happened? Were you fired? Were you BOTH fired? Did Gibbs stick up for you? Gibbs! Did you say anything? McGee-'

'Abby,' hissed Tony, aware that Vance was only a few feet away. 'It's okay. McTeam player and I both get to stay. Teeny tiny note in our files. No biggy.'

Abby drew back from Tony for a moment before flinging her arms around his neck excitedly.

'Let him breathe,' Gibbs told her in the sternest voice he could muster. 'And get back to the lab, or you'll have a note in YOUR file, and it won't be a teeny tiny one.'

…

'Ah Jethro,' said Ducky by way of greeting as Gibbs entered Autopsy. 'I assume Timothy and Anthony have had their lecture from the Director?'

'Escaped with a note in their files,' Gibbs told him, aware that Ducky may well have been holding his breath a little over the outcome of recent events. 'Not before McGee turned the colour of one of your clients, Duck. But at least he didn't drop Dinozzo in it.'

Ducky nodded appreciatively before taking a flask of whiskey and two shot glasses from his cupboard.

_What's this in aid of? _asked Gibbs wordlessly by raising an eyebrow.

'Restoration of peace within the ranks,' explained Ducky as he poured a nip from himself and for his friend. 'Trust back amongst the three of you,' he added.

Gibbs raised his glass and swallowed the contents. It was true that he felt celebratory. He'd had a moral victory over Vance. Dinozzo's hopeful faith in McGee had been vindicated. His team was back together, albeit one member having a clipped wing for a time.

'I wonder,' said Ducky as he studied his glass, 'if we might soon be raising a toast to a union rather than a reunion.'

Gibbs knew immediately what Ducky was alluding to but he wondered how the old M.E. had come to a similar conclusion that he had. Gibbs recalled Abby's excessive concern about Tony's welfare, Tony's disappointment that Abby had already left for work the morning Gibbs had shown up to take him to court, Tony's haste to reassure Abby about any little thing that might worry her, and the scene at the hospital he had hurriedly left. The corners of Gibbs mouth went up a little as he realized that he actually didn't mind the thought of his Senior Field Agent and favourite Forensic Scientist together.

'Ah, so you approve,' said Ducky, interrupting Gibbs; reverie and sending the marine's mouth back into a tight line.

'Rule 12,' Gibbs told him as he placed his glass down and headed back upstairs, but Ducky was already happily pouring himself another shot of Whiskey.

….

'You seem to be happier with McGee now,' commented Ziva as she watched Tony rummage awkwardly through his desk drawer with one hand. She had seen the way they had walked down from Vance's office, Tony's face bright, and McGee slightly pale but with a smile on his face. Even Gibbs had looked pleased with the world, albeit in his 'less pissed off than usual' expression.

'Well, everything in life is relative,' said Tony as he continued to search for something. 'But McGoo certainly came through just now. Could have sold me out, but he didn't.'

'Sold you out?' asked Ziva. 'I am not sure what you mean.'

'Sent me down the river without a paddle, left me high and dry,' offered Tony. 'Made me out to be the bad guy,' he added when he saw the look of consternation on Ziva's face.

'I am more than familiar with that idiom,' Ziva informed him. 'I am simply curious about why you think McGee would make you out to be the bad guy. We are all on the same team.'

'Yes we are,' agreed Tony. 'But McGee and I had kind of lost something. Ahh – there it is!' He held up a small tube triumphantly before moving over to McGee's desk.

'What is it that you had both lost?' pressed Ziva.

'Respect,' said Tony. 'Mutual respect and understanding of the other person's position on the team.'

'And that is why you are now securing McGee's pens to his desk with glue,' said Ziva, frowning.

'It's all about things being back to normal,' Tony told her. 'Hey, speaking of being on the same team, give me a hand here. McGee'll be back from wherever he's gone any second!'

Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Ziva left her desk to help out her partner.


End file.
